Rolling

For the first time in a long time, I went bowling yesterday. As I told someone, I used to bowl a bit during summers when working at Boy Scout camp, as they had a bowling alley in the nearest town. Outside of that, I have seldom had cause to bowl. Certainly I'm not going to do it alone, and friends have not expressed much interest until now. Suffice it to say that I am out of practice, or I was going into the evening I'm describing.

The bowling alley was in what looks from the outside like a barn. It was called the Bowling Barn, and I don't know if it was a renovated barn or a fake. I hope it was the former. When we walked inside, we found it was all lit up with bright colors but otherwise subdued lighting. I feared it was one of those "cosmic bowling" situations where you are supposed to pay more because of the various concessions they've made to youth.

Quiet, Alone, Content

As I write this, I remain at the cabin where I have been the past few days. We have had in that time steadily deteriorating weather. We started out with a sunny 70 degrees, and assumed we could count on a week of the same, but such has not been the case. It has not gotten so bad as to descend into the depths of a storm, but it has gotten colder, and that's not all bad. It is, of course, easier to appreciate that stuff from indoors.

We've gotten fog now. It's a hell of a thing for me, having grown up in Phoenix, but perhaps it's commonplace and mundane for others. Advised of the fog's arrival, I eagerly rushed outside with others. I was alone in my group of friends in seeking to see more, however. I walked down the steps from the second floor balcony of the cabin, down the driveway and across the street to the dock where a pontoon boat, two kayaks and a canoe have all lain at our disposal.

Stick To Principles

While on a trip to Big Bear Lake (which is ongoing), my friends and I took a little walking tour of the town. There is fairly little to it, or so I gathered from the experience. There were some rather neat shops that we looked in on, one of which was a thrift store. They had little of appeal, outside of one or two things. One friend bought a trophy that was evidently made for some TV show, and I bought something of my own.

It was a pair of buttons for a political campaign run by one Jane Camp. A cursory internet search turns up no evidence of a Jane Camp or her run for governor (which seems to have been successful, as the second button lobbies for her reelection). The possibility that Jane Camp is fictional suggests itself, but whether she is real or fake, there would seemingly be some hits from internet searches. It's inconsequential, anyway.

Bar Vulture

Some friends and I were at a bar last night to celebrate a birthday. It was that sort of place where the wall and ceiling are plastered with dollar bills, and this happened to be karaoke night. I did manage to sing, although I have had better performances. In any case, the karaoke is not what I found chiefly remarkable. There was something about the service there that rubbed me the wrong way, although I'm sure I would be alone in this.

We got dinner there, and the food was good enough. Certainly there was an awful lot of it. I hardly got halfway through my burger before I'd had enough, and there were nachos and fries as well. The food is not at issue. It's the guy who came around looking for completed dishes and empty glasses. That's a necessary thing, I'll grant, but I won't agree that one need be as as aggressive as he seemed to be in his task.

Extolling "Death Proof"

Yesterday, I spoke of my affection for the 50's classic "Executive Suite". Maybe that is only a classic to me, but I'm not about to bend to the feelings of others on this point. There are many films that are like that to me, and many are far more contemporary than that film. Another film which I feel that I must be relatively alone on is Quentin Tarantino's "Death Proof". I don't want to have it to myself. I wish everyone loved it, but it is evidently his least loved film.

It was the first film of his that I can think of where he opted to split the film into two self-sufficient stories, and I have not liked it when he has done that since, but in this instance it worked. It was a surprise, being the first time, and I feel the story also warranted it. Perhaps I'm telling something someone reading may not be aware of yet, but the first half of the film concerns a group of women who stumble upon a murderous former stunt driver. The conclusion of that half dispenses with them.

Extolling "Executive Suite"

When I was entertaining the idea of writing about a favorite film of mine, "Executive Suite", I realized that I might have written about it before. While I don't work as strenuously as I once did to avoid repeating myself, this was a time when I decided to check. I found, happily enough, that I had mentioned it in passing twice, but never really got into. I was glad, because I knew it would be a pleasure and I hate scratching an idea for any reason.

It really is a great film. I was turned on to it by a teacher during my charter school days. He got those of us in his class into a whole range of things, from chess to computer animation to computer networking to films. Executive Suite was one of them, and I think his idea was to impress on us sound business practices or some such thing. The film concerns the executive vice presidents of a furniture company, a number of whom are jockeying to replace the suddenly deceased company president.

I Walk, My Skin Crawls

The other day, I found myself going to an audition in Beverly Hills. I've been to auditions in neighborhoods dodgy enough that I wondered whether I had the right address, but this was obviously in the other direction. I knew I was going to the right place, but still somehow I wondered, because there seemed to be little reason why a casting office need be in such a ritzy locale. There's a middle area.

From where the bus let me off, I had to walk for around fifteen or so minutes to get where I was going. Along the way, I saw what there was to see in an outdoor mall while seeking a restroom to use. All in all, I got my fill of the area. As I think I've made plain, such upscale districts are not for me. There is some kind of insecurity that I have about that sort of thing. I get the idea that I'll be sniffed out as insufficiently well-to-do or classy and asked to leave.